


Angsty Reveal Fic #38908345

by Fictionista654



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25784644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionista654/pseuds/Fictionista654
Summary: Basically your standard angsty reveal fic.“I know,” says Merlin, holding Arthur’s gaze. “I know. Do you do think it wasn’t eating me apart every day, having this secret that I could never tell you?”“Clearly not enough,” Arthur says.“Do you remember how you shook the first time you kissed me?”Arthur scowls. “This isn’t the time, Merlin.”“No,” says Merlin. “I think it is."
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 204





	Angsty Reveal Fic #38908345

Excalibur clatters to the wet cave floor. 

Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot—a man who trained for battle from the time he was two years old, starting with blunt training swords and progressing to Caliburn, which he carried for five years until he pulled its successor from a stone and won back his kingdom, a man who has never faltered, never trembled in the face of destructive forces—has dropped his sword.

Merlin—a man who has never asked Arthur for forgiveness, who has never apologized for his character, for his humor, for the things he does to save the people he loves, a man who has never allowed his mask to slip, has never once turned his true face toward the light—falls to his knees. 

Neither the manservant nor his king speaks. Around them lie the remains of Morgana’s men. If they speak, it is not in a language the living can understand.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispers to the ground. Above him, stalactites hang like daggers.

“What are you,” says Arthur, and his voice is like the top of a frozen lake. The waters surge beneath it.

If Merlin could answer that question, he would. But he has no answer to that, he has no idea where to begin, he doesn’t even know who he is. Sometimes he thinks he is a man and sometimes he fears that he is not; sometimes he is sure that he is invincible, and that has made him think himself invisible, but now he is visible, too visible.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin says again, and this is what cracks Arthur’s voice in half when he shouts, “I trusted you!”

His voice rings throughout the cave, bouncing off its stone walls and making Merlin tremble. It’s over, he knows. The life he knew is over. Arthur will never again allow him in his presence, let alone his confidence. 

It does not occur to Merlin that Arthur will kill him. 

Luckily, it does not occur to Arthur either.

“You were my friend,” says Arthur. His voice is dull. “You were my lover.” On this last word, he turns away, as if he is too disgusted to waste another moment of his sight on Merlin. It is this, out of everything, that makes Merlin cry.

The tears drop onto the floor, pooling into the crevices. Merlin can’t catch his breath, can’t make a sound. His breath squeezes out in huffs as he sobs.

Arthur laughs sharply. “Tears won’t make this go away, Merlin. Stand up and face me like a man.”

This burns Merlin, and his head jolts up. He hasn’t fallen to his knees because he’s a coward, he’s fallen to his knees to show Arthur that he would give him anything. But he doesn’t know how to say this, and so he rises with his words caught in his throat.

To his shame, his knees shake as his eyes meet Arthur’s. It’s as painful as looking into the sun. 

“What are you,” Arthur repeats.

Merlin wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “A sorcerer,” he says. “I’m a sorcerer. Have been since the day I was born.” 

“You knew when you came to Camelot,” says Arthur. 

“It’s why I came,” says Merlin, his voice trembling. “I use my gifts to protect you.”

It sounds ridiculous, a sorcerer protecting the King of Camelot. Arthur’s eyes fall to his sword, and Merlin wonders if he is remembering the day he got it. The lie Merlin spun about a mythical king and a rock in the woods. Such a fantastical tale, and Arthur never questioned it.

“How do I know that isn’t another lie?” says Arthur.

Merlin doesn’t know how to answer in words, so he sends it in a picture. A memory of him and Arthur in bed, curled against each other and drifting into sleep.

Arthur recoils. _“Get out of my head,”_ he spits.

“I-I’m sorry,” Merlin falters. “I didn’t mean—I just—”

“Have you done that before?” says Arthur, and his voice is different this time, quieter but somehow even more horrified.

“No!” says Merlin. “I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Something you must do even less than I thought,” says Arthur. Usually when he ribs Merlin, it’s with an undercurrent of warmth. He never sounds like this, like Merlin is worth less than the dirt beneath his feet.

It’s humiliating, and Merlin’s eyes close. Tears continue to flow over his burning cheeks.

Arthur snatches up Excalibur and stabs it into its sheathe. In two strides, he crosses the space between himself and Merlin, shoving him into the sharp, rocky wall. He has one arm across Merlin’s chest, compressing so hard that Merlin wheezes, and a hand around his wrists. His left foot snakes around Merlin’s right one, destabilizing him. When Merlin sides down, Arthur’s arm cuts into his throat, and he chokes.

It’s enough to make Arthur step back. His arms drop to his sides. He has never been able to harm anyone he loves, no matter what they do to him. Not his father, not Gwen. 

Not Merlin.

Maybe on another day, maybe at a different time, maybe if Arthur hadn’t spent the past twenty minutes battling for his life. But he doesn’t have it in him.

He is also, he realizes, wounded. Blood drips from a wound on his arm, stiffening his shirt. He doesn’t know it, but it is this wound which spurred Merlin to use his magic. He had known Arthur was hurt before Arthur himself.

Sunlight slants through the entrance to the cave. Time is passing. Merlin feels it slip through his fingers, his time for explaining, his time for keeping Arthur with him. At any moment, Arthur will walk out of the cave and Merlin’s life. He will leave Merlin behind, alone as he has always been, except now everyone will know it.

It hurts so much. The pain pushes words through Merlin’s mouth that he knows he shouldn’t say. “Don’t leave.” His words hover in the air, lonely and beseeching. Please. Please don’t leave me all alone.

Arthur closes his eyes. Tears, unmanly and unforgivable, to Arthur at least, burn down his cheeks. He doesn’t want this to be happening anymore than Merlin does. Even as he rages, he remembers the smoothness of Merlin’s cheek against his hand, the pale inside of his thigh. He can hear Merlin’s laughter, the tut he makes when he’s annoyed.

“Was any of it real?” His voice is nearly inaudible.

If Arthur had lined up Excalibur with Merlin’s heart and pushed, he could not have hurt him more. Merlin’s face drains of color.

“Of course!” he cries. “How could you even… Everything was real. Everything.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” says Arthur. “You’re what we call a liar, Merlin.” 

The sarcasm lacing his voice is so cold that Merlin almost laughs. This is so ridiculous. He’s never had a fight with Arthur of this magnitude. When Arthur says something patronizing, it’s always with the deeper understanding that they are both in on the joke. But this is not a joke. This is deadly fucking serious.

“I know,” says Merlin, holding Arthur’s gaze. “I know. Do you do think it wasn’t eating me apart every day, having this secret that I could never tell you?” 

“Clearly not enough,” Arthur says.

“Do you remember how you shook the first time you kissed me?”

Arthur scowls. “This isn’t the time, Merlin.”

“No,” says Merlin. “I think it is. You were _frightened_ , Arthur. Frightened that you had misread my signals. Frightened that I would tell everything about your unnatural desires.” 

A spasm passes over Arthur’s face, a split-second of…something. He turns away from Merlin and looks at the cave wall.

 _All his talk of bravery, and he can’t even look me in the eyes,_ Merlin thinks. His voice rises with his temper: “You told me that you knew you wanted me the first time you saw me. So why didn’t you tell everyone?”

“Sodom—” Arthur’s voice breaks, and he starts over. “Sodomy is punishable by death.”

“So you see my predicament.”

There is a long silence. Arthur looks away.

“It’s time to make camp,” he says.

It’s not much, but it’s a beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my best work, but I'm trying to get back in the habit of posting more. I have so much going on in my real life that I feel like it could be fun to focus on something purely for fun and not for making money.


End file.
